What you see is what you get
by subseeker
Summary: Sequel to All I have / Three years… It had always been an us… Three years… I… I really thought we would be stronger... A fairytale gone... wrong? This is Centon and yes, it is slash ;D
1. Fairytale gone wrong

Hi folks!

Here we go, this is the sequel to All I have and I guess you've expected a full chapter but… well, it's only a sneak-peek. Please don't be all too disappointed Ó_Ò

I'm still busy with finishing this first part (although I wanted it to be finished already a while ago, but time… or better no time… threw a monkey wrench in my plans). I promise I'll hurry!

Anyway, take it as a goody and have fun ;D

* * *

Three years… Those three years had been the best of my life. After the stony way we had stumbled along, side by side yet either one of us on his own, we had finally managed to find the other at a glade to walk the rest of the way together. It had been perfect. Life had been perfect. _We_ had been perfect.

Three years… Like a dream. Or like a movie. It doesn't matter how one would want to name it. We made the 24/7 and that's something only few couples really manage to do. He was… mine. And god knows, I was his. Never before in my life I had felt so much love. It felt like for every tiny bit of love I gave to him, he rewarded me with twice so much. We had been so very close like we were one. He was my life. He was the one thing that kept my heart beating.

Three years… It had always been an us…

Three years… I… I really thought we would be stronger.

_Three fucking years…_ And then he had to freak out. Thinking back, there had been signs that something was on its way and it kept crawling behind us like a nasty, ugly creature, hidden in the shadows. But at some point it passed us without being noticed.

Three years went south in less than a week. Just like that. Just… like that…

Sure, after three years people finally started to wonder why we still lived in the same house, why neither Randy nor I had dated girls during the whole time. There were people who jokingly asked us when the wedding would be, some people made a case that visiting us could cause acute celibacy and yeah, okay, there were voices who asked us if we reenacted Brokeback Mountain behind closed doors and that question _wasn't_ meant jokingly. But damn it, most of the people didn't even give a shit about what we did and what not. And then there were people like Stephen who knew about us and had our back. Or Phil. It hadn't taken him all too long to smell the rat and one evening after the show he stopped by at my locker, just when Randy was there, too, and he congratulated us and told us that it was about damn time.

But everything was okay. There was no reason to worry. He loved me, I loved him. We had Alanna and after a little over half a year, Sam accepted the facts and we became friends. A family. And Alanna was a very happy girl with a mom and two dads.

And I… in that time, every day was the best day of my life. Every day I felt like that very moment when I realized that Randy was mine. I felt pure love and joy and so many more golden warm feelings, every single minute, becoming even brighter and more vivid those moments he was with me. And he felt the same. He told me that, over and over again…

In the past weeks there had been four situations though that hadn't been all too pleasant. Situations where we had been called faggots by some random idiots. Those had been moments when we had been sitting a little too close maybe, when we had been looking at each other a tad too long, yet we had never been _really_ _obvious_… And then one of those guys took us by surprise and with a neat punch to Randy's face he busted his upper lip. I broke his nose in response. Those situations hadn't been nice, but it wasn't a reason to _freak_. So I guess it had been Sam's dad who made hell break loose. How? He found out about us and threatened that he would make sure Randy would lose the joint custody and that he would never see Alanna again. That a pervert like him had no right to have a daughter. But even that could have been filed under: yadda-yadda-yadda, I don't give a flying fuck.

Because Sam was alright with it. With us.

But this was about his little girl and when it came to Alanna… well, when it came to her, Randy freaked over everything. And while I tried to talk to him, to show him that the world was still alright he didn't listen and he didn't open his eyes for reality, didn't understand that everything was good...

And then from one second to the next hell broke loose and I found myself standing in the middle of it and before I knew what was just happening it was already too late. The situation had gotten out of hand before I had the chance to close my fingers around it and keep it from slipping through them…

"_You don't know how it feels, John! You don't have the slightest idea how the fear to lose your daughter feels!" _

"_But I fucking know how the fear to lose a loved person feels, Randy! I sure as hell know how the fear feels that I might lose _you_ and I love Alanna as if she was my own daughter, goddammit!" I half growled, half choked out as I tried not to yell at Randy, because I was fucking panicked and frankly pissed by his words. Much softer I added: "She even calls me daddy, Ran."_

_There was a glint in his eyes at my words and I hoped that he understood that I knew how he felt. Maybe Ally wasn't my daughter, but I loved her and hell, I sure as hell never wanted to lose the little sunshine and Randy… god knew it would break me to lose him. The glint was replaced by an odd cold emotion and if I had to guess, it was some freezing cold and scaring offspring of his fear to lose Ally._

"_But she _isn't_ your daughter, John," he stated then, his voice as chilling as the emotion which was still lingering in the icy grey eyes. _

_I had to swallow hard against the lump that built in my throat. God, who was the man standing there? Because this very moment, this man wasn't my Randy._

"_You were the one who encouraged her to call me that," I reminded him and again I swallowed hard._

_His words left a bitter taste in my mouth. Randy wiped his hands down his face, before he crossed his arms over his chest, but his slightly hunched shoulders told me that he slipped into a defensive posture._

"_Yeah, I know and maybe it was a mistake," he said strained, giving me a painful side blow with those words._

_Not able to hold my disappointment and frustration any longer at bay I snapped loudly: "You cannot be serious?! Finally, after all it took us to get there, we were a family and it worked perfectly wonderful for the last three years! Even Sam accepted us and now you go and destroy all we have because you're freaking over _nothing_!"_

"_I am not freaking over _nothing_, John!" he hissed. "People are talking about us, goddammit, and it can cost us everything! Our jobs, our reputation and worse, it can cost me Ally!"_

_And while Randy spoke he shook the defensive demeanor off, his arms falling to his sides, fingers flexing as he shifted his stance and straightened up to his full height. A shadow cast over his face and suddenly those beautiful features I've known for ages… seemed alien. Involuntary I stepped back from him, shocked to the core, wondering what the hell was just happening. This all had taken me by surprise. One day everything was okay, the next day… our world was torn apart…_

"_Goddammit, people aren't talking, Randy," I replied curtly but then I sighed._

_I couldn't understand it. It all. When had everything begun to get out of hand. And why? People were talking about us? Really, people had been talking about us ever since the first time we had been on the screen, crediting us with having a thing for one another. And no one seemed to really have a problem with the idea. But even if they had a problem with us being an item… it would be the last thing on earth I would've cared about. I loved him, no matter what the world thought about it._

_So I stepped closer to him again, adding quietly, pleading: "Open your eyes. Please. No one wants to take Ally away from you. And I don't give a damn shit if being with you costs me my job or my reputation. My everything is you, Ran. So don't… don't take that away from me."_

_For a single heartbeat I saw the man I loved in his eyes but he was gone too fast to call out to him. Randy moved backwards, bringing space between us and maybe he wanted to make sure I couldn't touch him, pull him into an embrace or whatever and hell, it was exactly what I wanted to do… hold him until he came to his senses._

"_I think we should take a break, John," he said then in an odd detached way. "The stakes are too high. I'm not gonna risk the custody for Ally, not even for you."_

_Blinking once I tried to process his words and when I understood the extent of their meaning I had to lean against the backrest of the couch as I felt my knees go weak. My body went numb and the world around me fell silent. All I could hear was the echo of his words in my mind, a buzzing in my ears and my own words when I finally was able to speak again._

"_Well then, Orton," I began, having a hard time to keep my voice steady as I said the words I never thought I would hurl at him. "I understand that you are afraid to lose Ally but if you want to go this way alone, take your fucking stuff and leave."_

_I don't think he would have expected me to say something like that. Ever. I watched as his jaw set, as he swallowed hard. His expression changed in a strange way… the tense features suddenly becoming smooth, nostrils flaring in an attempt to breathe deeply because breathing suddenly was becoming difficult. I knew what was happening to him, what he was feeling right now. He was caught in the situation, stuck with all those severe problems he thought he had… thinking that he was doing the right thing. Or probably not thinking at all. And between all this he felt his heart drop, the very moment he realized that it had maybe been one push too much. _

_It's that cold and queasy feeling when you realize that something… or someone… you've taken for granted suddenly isn't there anymore…_

_I watched all this for a long moment very, very quietly while trying to fight down a growing pain and the urge to throw up, before I simply turned around and grabbed my keys._

"_Make sure you're gone when I come back," I spat and with that I left the house._

_And with me I took the precious, reasonable and selfless John he knew, leaving him behind to cope with his own decision…_


	2. The wrong place

So, here we go. The next part, freshly baked and served warm.

As always I hope you'll like it ;D

And thanks for your feedback. It is was keeps me going, because every time I see there's a new review I feel like *ding-ding-ding*dances around happily*gosh, I need to continuuuuueeee!*

XD

* * *

I had been stubborn about not crying in front of him and after leaving the house I climbed in my car and… fled. I drove without losing a thought about where I was driving to and I felt like my mind was being detached from my body. I wasn't really _there_. The drive went by in a blur and when I shut the motor off and took a real look where I was… I found myself in front of Stephen's house.

My mind found back to my body and with it reality came back. I began to laugh, a desperate, sick laughter. Randy's words, the way he'd acted towards me… the whole situation, it smashed down on me like a metal pipe, shattering my whole world and _me_ with a sickening crack. My laughing died away and I could do nothing to stop the sharp cry of pain that escaped my throat. It was worse than anything I had ever felt in my whole life. I clutched the steering wheel hard, harder until my fingers, my hands, my arms began to hurt, to burn and cramp but it didn't stop the pain that filled my heart and my mind. Eventually I let go of the steering wheel and my hands slipped down, landing heavily on my legs and starting to rock back and forth I bit down on my lip… crying. I sat like this for I don't know how long. It could have been minutes or hours. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore…

It was a gentle hand that brought me back as it settled on my shoulder. My eyes burned and my throat hurt from crying and suddenly I felt much too exhausted to even flinch at the sudden and unexpected touch. All I could do was gaze up to its owner, trying to blink back the tears which just wouldn't stop falling. I wasn't surprised to find Stephen standing there, bracing against the car door as he reached through the open side window, but his expression told me that _he_ was surprised to find _me_ in front of his house. Into the surprise added heavy worry as I said his name, my voice breaking at the single word.

It was enough for him to pull me out of my car and into his house, where he steered me to his couch. He sat down beside me and except for handing me a Kleenex every once in a while he did nothing but wait patiently for me to speak. For three long hours… until I said it, making it even more real than I could bear.

"Randy… he broke up… "

I told him everything, every goddamn painful detail of what had happened and while I spoke I felt his hand settle back on my shoulder, felt him rub and squeeze it in an attempt to give comfort. Then I fell silent and it was the moment he pulled me into his arms and I fell and I started to cry again…

All that had happened yesterday.

And since then time seemed to stand still, keeping me prisoner in an all too real hell…

x

I would never have believed that a room could be so awfully quiet and empty. But it was and I was right in the middle of it, feeling lost. And I knew I shouldn't be here but I was and it was my own fucking fault, because once again I had done it.

I had been me and I had done a _perfect_ job.

Sighing I got up from the bed and walked over to the window, gazing out and down onto the yard. It had been the right thing to do… but this had gotten out of hand. It should never have ended like that. It never was _supposed_ to end _at_ _all_, but this wasn't only about me and… and John. It was about Alanna. I couldn't lose her. Not her, not my girl…

Groaning I closed my eyes and rubbed my hands through my face, trying to shut out the memories which invaded my thoughts over and over again. It had never been my intention to hurt John like I had done but at some point I had lost the control about it and… I hauled things at him I never wanted to say. What I wanted was taking things slower and us being more careful when we weren't at home because people were talking and Sam's dad _knew_ about _us_. Maybe John was right, maybe her dad couldn't do anything as long as she was okay with the situation. Still it was dangerous… Losing our jobs, our reputation was one thing and it would be bad enough, but I just couldn't risk losing the custody for Ally.

John had always been so carefree about all this and sometimes I wished I could be like him, could feel like he did. Carefree, optimistic, confident. It had probably been what made me snap in the first place, the fact that he didn't seem to understand how serious our situation was. Law gave a damn shit about love. And John being John tried to convince me that the world was still all perfect, that there was no reason to worry.

I wanted to save both, our relationship and the custody for Ally and then I had to go and break up with him. We still could be together this very moment if we both hadn't been ourselves for once …

Bracing on the windowsill I hung my head, taking a shuddering breath. Randy Orton, the biggest bastard ever. I felt like crying and I wished I could, I owed it to John, but the tears just wouldn't fall. Ever since the moment John left I felt broken and it hurt beyond words yet I felt numb. My body, my mind… my heart. He left and he took his love with him, leaving me defenseless against it all. Against myself.

God, the way he had looked at me… the way his voice had sounded. He'd been so desperate and I… pushed him away. Schizophrenic, isn't it? I wanted to hold him yet I pushed him away with all my might. It killed me to see him like that yet I did my best to make it worse. I wanted to protect him yet I was the one who hurt him so very much.

I loved this man more than my own life and there were no words to describe the love I felt for him, but no matter how much I loved him… Ally was and would always be the most important person in my life.

Absentmindedly fishing in the pocket of my cargo I watched the sun go down, dyeing the horizon with the soft and calming colors only a sundown could create. And in between there was a thin line of the one color I loved so much… it was the blue of John's eyes. I had to take a deep breath as a cutting ache flashed through my chest, emerging from all the pain that lingered there since yesterday.

My fingers closed around my cell and hesitantly I pulled it out. I knew there would be no missed call from John, no message from him. Why should he want to contact me after what I had done? Yet I gazed at its screen and… found a message. My heartbeat accelerated for a moment but it wasn't from John and my heart dropped in disappointment. The message was from Stephen.

_John's here at my place. I hope you're already thinking of a good way to make up to him for the bullshit you've done. I guess I don't need to tell you how much you hurt him, so apologize to him before it's too late._

No, Stephen didn't need to tell me how much I had hurt John. I had seen it in his eyes as I made our world fall apart and that image was haunting me. Again my eyes burned but the tears still refused to fall… And yes, I was tried to think of a way to make things good again between him and me, but I had no fucking idea how. All I could do was to go to him, tell him that I never meant what I said, that I never wanted to break up with him. Tell him how sorry I was… and hope he would give me a second… no, a third chance. It would be my third chance, wouldn't it? My first chance had been back then when I broke up with Sam and moved in with him, because I knew that I wanted, needed to be with him, although I hadn't been sure about my own feelings. And because I hadn't been sure I didn't take the chance he gave me and pushed him around instead, started an emotional back and forth… and toyed with him. And when I finally knew what I wanted he gave me a second chance. After all I had done to him.

I puffed a mirthless chuckle into the quietness of the room. John had gone through a lot of shit back then just because I couldn't make up my mind. The pain I had caused him had been more than enough for a lifetime and now I had done it again, so why should he forgive me?

_Because he loves you and no matter what you've done, he knows that you love him, too…_

Sighing heavily I sat on the edge of the windowsill, opening Stephen's message again. I was glad that John was with him because he was safe there.

_Good to hear he's with you. I know that I'm a bastard and believe me, if I could turn back time I would do it._

Hitting the send button I stared at the screen, chewing on my lips while pondering if I should call Stephen… not John. I knew I wouldn't be able to spill even one word if I heard his voice now. Here we go, wasn't that poor? I loved that man more than my own life and it scared the shit out of me to talk to him. And why? Because I never learned to apologize properly. Because I was nothing than a selfish asshole, an egotistical bastard. Inconsiderate and emotionally stunted. Wasn't it a wonder that someone like John, someone who carried his heart on his tongue, who was so damn loving and caring, loyal… and precious… could love someone like me the way he did? He would give up everything he'd fought so hard for, just like that, for me. And I rewarded him with… nothing but more pain.

"Fuck…" I muttered and let my head fall lightly against the window, rolling it against the cool glass.

Christ, I was able to think all this, so why couldn't I simply _tell_ _him_ that?! It shouldn't be that hard and difficult, right? This was John, my John, the one person could tell anything. It had always been like that so why couldn't I do it now?

_Because you're scared to death that he won't listen to you, that he won't give you another chance. That you managed to drive him away for good._

My cell vibrated in my hand. Another message from Stephen.

_Don't tell me, tell him. _

After a hesitant second I hit the call button and he answered immediately.

"Yer know tha yer an asshole, don't yer?" he greeted me, his voice hushed but definitely chiding and I closed my eyes, rubbing my temple against a slight pounding in my head.

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling myself all the time, thank you very much," I sighed down the line and heard him huff.

For a moment there was quietness and it was awkward and accusing.

It was Stephen who broke it, voice still hushed: "Yer really need to talk to him."

I pushed myself away from the windowsill and walked over to the bed where I sat down heavily, my free hand reaching out for an old and worn tee. It was John's shirt, the one he'd worn the night before.

"I know," I whispered, letting my fingertips brush lovingly over the fabric before burying my fingers in it to lift it to my face, inhaling John's scent which emanated from it. "I'm scared, Stephen."

Another huff and then a sigh. Faintly I heard steps coming through the line and then a door being opened and closed again. More steps and I guessed that he had left the house, probably to make sure John wouldn't hear him talking to me.

Then: "Yer _should_ be scared, Randy. It's not John's style to leave like he left yer. Ever lost a thought tha yer have pushed him a bit too hard this time?"

Lying back onto the bed I put the tee on the spot over my heart, staring up at the ceiling. The fact that Stephen threw such a comment at me meant that John had mentioned something like that or that he'd heard something between the lines. My heart missed a beat, settling for a too fast and painful stumbling.

"Christ, Stephen, why do you think am I scared to talk to him?" I snapped at him. But this wasn't Stephen's fault, it was mine and I had no right to be like that towards him and so I added much softer: "I'm sorry, I… don't know what's wrong with me… "

Again quietness fell but only for a moment. This time it was me who spoke first.

"I never wanted to break up with him, I… _fuck_… I just wanted to take things a bit slower and then I snapped and somehow I… I wanted to stop but I couldn't…" I said, my voice taking on a desperate tone and my fingers twisted into the tee.

"Yeah, sounds like the Randy I knew before the two of yer got together. Yer know, the asshole-self yer pulled all too often. The one who only John and myself put up with. Question is, why is tha Randy back?" Stephen replied slowly, thoughtfully and I felt my heart plummeting to my tummy because it wasn't pleasant to hear that from a good friend like him. "John told me tha yer are afraid tha people talk about the two of yer. I understand tha yer are afraid tha it might have consequences if someone finds out about it but yer not alone. Yer know I'm there for the two of yer, even Punk and Sam and I know tha a lot other people would be okay with it, too. Believe me. Yer have the shared custody for yer daughter and why should Sam try to take it away from yer? Tha's why I wouldn't care about her dad. Tha leaves John and yer worries about yer job and yer reputation. And now tell me, what's more important: yer job and reputation or the love of yer life?"

I listened to his words as he told me all those things I already knew. Things I didn't want to admit to myself. And so I said nothing and Stephen understood.

His voice was gentle as he said: "Do something before it's too late."

"I want to… but I don't know what, how…" I whispered harshly at the bitter incapability of being the man John deserved. "I need time, Stephen. Promise you take care of him."

If anyone it was Stephen who I trusted enough to ask this.

"Promise. But don't wait too long," he warned quietly. "I gotta go now…"

I muttered a _bye_ and got one in reply before the line fell dead and I was alone again in this awfully quiet and empty room. My eyes were still fixed on the ceiling as my hand which held the cell fell lifelessly onto the mattress, while the other kept holding the shirt tightly against my chest. The room was darkening more and more, the remaining daylight barely illuminating it with a soft crimson and for no apparent reason it fed the pain in me. Well, maybe because it dimmed my already lousy mood even more. Yeah… it pulled me down and honestly I didn't have the strength to fight it…

After long minutes there was a soft knock at the door. A moment later it opened and she stepped in, whispering my name. There had been times when I loved to hear her say my name like that but now it only set a wave of hot guilt free and I knew I shouldn't be here, that I should leave as fast as even possible yet I couldn't stand the thought of being alone in an empty hotel room. It was hard enough to be in _this_ empty room. Sam switched the lights on and I had to narrow my eyes against the sudden glaring brightness. I heard her steps come closer and felt the mattress dip as she sat onto the bed.

"Ally asked me to give Daddy and… Daddy John a kiss," she said and I hoped that she wouldn't lean in to really deliver that kiss.

She didn't. And I was grateful for it and I was also grateful that Alanna was with her grandparents.

"Dinner's ready," she added and the mattress bounced a bit as she shifted, leaning over me and our gazes locked. "You haven't eaten since you came here. Aren't you hungry, Ran?"

I winced as she called me that. It was the first time ever since I broke up with her that she called me by my pet name. It was wrong… The right to call me Ran belonged to John and only wrapped in that warm voice of his it sounded right.

"Sam, please… don't. Don't call me that," I muttered as rolled over to sit up, undercooled as I said those words… avoiding her hurt look. "And no, I'm not hungry, but thanks. I could do with a beer though."

With that I got up and made my way out of the room, heading towards the kitchen while Sam followed behind. I could feel her sharp eyes directed at me, a stare she had given me much too often in the past. It meant she wanted to talk… about things.

"So you really think drinking is a good idea?"

"Right now? Yeah," I replied wearily as I helped myself to a beer and in addition to a bottle of Scotch on my way to the living room.

Sam had changed only few things after I had moved out, yet this house didn't feel like a home to me anymore. I was a guest, nothing more, nothing less. A guest who wasn't very nice to his host. Setting the bottles down onto the coffee table I turned around to her and her stare softened immediately. Obviously I looked as miserable as I felt.

"Thanks, Sam. Really. Thank you for letting me stay here."

"It's okay… Randy," she replied and I watched her brows furrow lightly and her lips become a thin line, like always when she was worried, and with that she stepped closer to me. "You don't look good…"

Nodding I let myself fall onto the couch, resting my head against the backrest as I slipped deeper into the thick cushion.

"Huh, yeah… I don't _feel_ good."

My voice was a mere whisper. I suddenly felt tired and I liked the prospect of a short and alcohol-saturated evening with a hopefully dreamless sleep afterwards. From the corner of my eye I saw her reach out to me, but she pulled her hand back before it touched me. We had become friends again over the past three years and things were quite easy between us, yet touching was still awkward, even if it was only a pat on the shoulder. I leaned forward, opening the beer and took a hearty gulp, a second, a third, took the Scotch and leaned back, placing it beside me.

"You don't need to stay here, Sam. This is gonna be ugly…" I warned her quietly because yes, I planned on drinking myself far beyond oblivion.

"You want to get drunk? Okay, but I'm not leaving you alone down here and risk that something happens to you without anyone noticing it."

She turned towards me and pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around them. Okay, so I would have audience. Sam knew me and she knew how this would end.

Cocking her head a bit she asked after a moment: "What happened?"

"I screwed up," I replied curtly, busying myself with the Scotch.

I hissed as the liquid burned its way down my throat and sent some beer right after it to wash the burning away. She nodded slowly.

"Well, you already said that. But you must've screwed up big time if John really kicked you out. I mean, we're talking about John. If anyone in this world is able and willed to put up with all the shit you dish out than it's him and…"

My head snapped around to her, the glare I sent her making her fall silent but I immediately averted my face. It wasn't Stephen's fault and it wasn't hers.

"God knows I had a hard time to admit it to myself but the two of you were the perfect couple. Really," she continued gingerly, eyeing me carefully. "After all that had happened and the past three years… I never thought that anything could destroy your relationship. Ever. _What happened, Randy?_"

_Nothing except me…_

Instead of answering her question I focused on getting drunk, ignoring her sighs, huffs, her insistent saying my name and worried stare. My mind drifted off, diving into obscured corners of my memories, pulling drawers open to free them. Memories of him…

Those sparkling baby blues. His scent, the way his skin felt under my touch. The way he kissed me awake every morning… his warm voice, whispering my name while we made love…

I stifled a sudden sob and took a few deep breaths, before his name dropped from my lips in a pained plea.

And again Sam reached out to me while wiping with the other hand over her cheeks. Absurd. This… was absurd. I was sitting here after losing the love of my life and my ex-wife was trying to comfort me although I dumped her for him. And all that just because I was unable to get a grip on my life.

Before she could touch me I inched away from her and put the Scotch to my lips, drinking it without a stop and it was pure will that prevented me from throwing up as my stomach cramped. With every single gulp I came closer to my goal of fading into blackness and I doubled my effort. With success. A low groan escaped my throat as I set the almost empty bottle beside me, my hand slipping down onto the cushion. Faintly I noticed Sam taking the bottle away and I wanted to protest, but all I managed was a shuddering moan as my stomach cramped again.

_Johnny…_

I noticed a dull, increasing buzzing in my ears. She whispered my name, deeply worried and very slowly I turned my face into Sam's direction, blinking as I tried to focus on her through my blurring vision and the alcohol induced haze that engulfed my mind as the alcohol finally hit me full force. The dull buzzing in my ears became louder every second and then my vision began to darken as I allowed my body to shut down, to slip into the approaching sleep… or maybe even unconsciousness.

The last thing I saw were her eyes… coming closer… and closer… or maybe I was only imagining it? And the last thing I felt… was… a touch… on my face… my neck… or… maybe I was only… imagining it…

* * *

For all those who thought that this is gonna be in Randy's POV… well… I'm trying myself on both POV's aaaand flashbacks from Randy's POV.

Good? ;3


	3. Black nothing

So this is part 3 and all beginnings are difficult, aren't they? I hope you like this part better? ;-)

Anyway, I keep on going and try to measure up to your expectation :3

Enjoy!

* * *

For hours I had been sitting there, lost on Stephen's big couch. Curled up in the corner of the backrest and armrest with my knees drawn up to my chest and wrapped in a comforter to hide away from everything. I couldn't hide from the hurt and the pain though, the desperation and the sorrow which were getting worse every minute Randy wasn't there and I had surrendered to it, hoping that I would eventually reach the point of not feeling anything at all. For hours I had been staring at the opposite wall, trying not to think. Impossible. Over and over again I tried to find the point when we had lost control over the situation, at which point our life had started to come apart at the seams without us noticing it. For those hours my mind replayed that disastrous fight again and again, showing me pictures of a man who wasn't my Randy. I always thought there were no secrets between us, _so why didn't he just talk to me sooner_?

_Randy…_

I still couldn't believe it. That it was over. I didn't want it to be over, I wanted him back. My whole body screamed to hold him, kiss him, be with him, refusing to accept that it maybe would never happen again. Taste him, feel him with my body, heart and mind. He'd been my lifeline. And ever since I had left the house I had hoped he would send me a message. Anything. But my cell remained relentlessly quiet…

Stephen stepped into my view, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch and with a tiny nod he held a mug in my direction. Neither was I hungry nor thirsty and when I made no move to take it, he nodded again and with a sigh I gave in. I took a hesitant sniff and grimaced at the strange scent.

"It'll do yer good," he said quietly. "Herbal tea. Valerian."

Looking up from the mug a pang of guilt rang through me as I realized how worried he still looked. There were dark circles around his eyes as if he hadn't found sleep last night and the frown and the furrowed brows seemed to have become everlasting. I hadn't noticed it this morning. I should have though.

"I'm sorry," I muttered and took a sip, grimacing again. "I'm sorry for being a burden and I'm sorry that you have to worry so much…"

"Ssh, don't say tha," he hushed me, giving me a tiny, crooked smile that vanished as fast as it came.

Stephen had canceled all his appointments, only to be here with me. It was what he had done yesterday and also today. Just being around. Hour after hour he waited in silence, every once in a while coming in to make sure I was okay and when I wanted to talk… we talked, although most of the time he only listened. I owed him… a lot.

"How are yer feeling?"

"It hurts," I whispered. "I miss him so…"

And then Stephen leaned towards me, his hands closing around mine and the mug to stop the trembling. When had my hand begun to tremble?

"Why don't yer call him?" he asked as he took the mug out of my hand, putting it away only to close his hands again around mine, inching a tad closer.

His touch was soothing…

"Why would he want to talk to me? He made his point pretty clear."

My voice was unsteady as I spoke. It didn't make it any better that I was afraid that there would be no answer if I called or sent a message. Or that he might tell me to fuck off.

"We're talking about Randy. Freaking out about shit, kicking bullshit off, putting his foot in his mouth. We both know he's an idiot," he stated while shrugging his shoulders.

"No, he's a selfish bastard," I hissed without much intensity.

"No, he's not. Well… okay, sometimes he is," he admitted, again shrugging his shoulders. And then he added very softly: "But you love him."

My gaze dropped to the floor as I murmured: "Yeah…"

"And you want him back."

"… yeah…" I breathed but I was almost sure that my heart was crying Randy's name loud enough for Stephen to hear it.

"Then call him. Talk to him."

I shook my head no and willed my eyes to meet Stephen's again, muttering: "He said he wants a break and… you should have seen him, Stephen. This man wasn't Randy, he… this man was a stranger. I've never seen him like that before."

Now it was his turn to shake his head no.

"I'm sure he didn't actually mean it, John."

"Yeah? Then why doesn't he call me? Why doesn't he send a message? Obviously he did mean it and…"

The tapping of his fingers against my hand cut me off.

"He's scared, John."

"Scared, huh? Yeah sure…"

"He _is_ scared, John. He told me tha."

For a long moment all I could do was staring at him as the information slowly sunk into my overstrained and exhausted mind. Stephen had talked to Randy and he hadn't told me earlier? And… Randy? If he had talked to Stephen, why couldn't he… talk to me?

"You… you talked to him? When?"

"This afternoon."

"Is he… okay?" I wanted to know, my words a mere whisper.

"No. He's not. By far not. And I told him tha _yer_ also are far from okay," he murmured.

Well, that was an understatement. Right now I was so far from okay that I wasn't sure if I would ever be okay again. But Stephen's words stirred a flicker of hope deep in my chest.

"Did he say where he is?" I asked then and a part of me wished that Randy was still at home.

"No. And I didn't ask him."

The room fell quiet while Stephen kept holding my hand and I was pondering if I should go home tomorrow or stay here for a few more days. What if Randy hadn't left? I doubted that it would be that easy, that he would wait for me at home and everything would be good again after a talk. Yet if you loved someone so much like I loved him, wasn't there always the tiny hope that a simple sorry could make things alright again?

A memory popped up in my busy mind. It was that first time I really kissed him. That moment he made me snap, back then in my living room, when I pinned him against the wall and literally kissed some sense into that stubborn and indecisive mule of a man. Maybe I should just have done the exact same thing as he told me that he wanted a break…

It was my name being whispered that made come back to the here and now and I noticed how Stephen's hands tightened a little around mine and then he scooted even closer. I watched him shift, watched as he angled his left leg, squeezing it between my legs and the backrest of the couch and as he stretched his right leg out, aligning it with the edge of the couch, practically framing me. And when his eyes locked with mine… I found confusion in them. And suddenly the expression on his face softened and the worry faded.

"John, I… how did yer know that yer are in love with Randy?"

Now, I hadn't expected that and wanted to ask why he wanted to know it, but at the lingering confusion in his eyes I decided otherwise.

"Uhm… I felt giddy and a warm fuzzy feeling when he was around and tingle when he touched me," I began. "I wanted to have him around all the time and be as close to him as possible. Those were the first signs. And at some point I noticed my heart pound fast and heavy every time I saw him and I wanted to kiss and touch him and… well, the whole package if you know what I mean. I felt bad when he wasn't close to me and happy when he was. I don't know, I guess I felt just like anyone else who is in love."

He hummed and nodded.

"Wasn't it a problem for yer tha he's a man?"

His voice dropped to a whisper as he asked it and I began to wonder what was going on… the way he sat there and held my hand, his questions…

"In the beginning it was a big problem," I replied slowly, roaming his face to find a hint. "But the more I realized that I loved him, the easier it was to accept it. Stephen… what's wrong?"

His eyes dropped to our joined hands and a strange urge to pull my hand out of his grew in my guts, but this was Stephen, my friend and I trusted him, so I willed myself to hold still. He tilted his head a tad to the side and opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but it was only a sigh that passed his lips. It couldn't be what I was thinking, could it?

"Are you… are you in love with a man?"

I got a slight flinch in response and knew I had touched a sore spot. Okay, that was surprising. Not impossible, but definitely surprising. My light tugging at his hands made his eyes snap back up to me again, those green eyes wide and unsure.

"I'm not sure," he replied then nervously. "I noticed something and it feels like it's getting stronger."

My hand was being turned palm up gently, almost fondly and once again his eyes dropped to our hands as he ran his thumbs over my palm. I had to swallow hard against a sudden lump in my throat.

"Stephen…" I rasped and saw him shake his head no with an oh so small smile on his lips.

"Don't worry, it's not yer or Randy," he calmed me and my unspoken worries. "It's just… to touch yer like tha feels normal and absolutely unspectacular, as funny as it sounds. It feels completely different to touching him. I haven't held his hand like _tha_, he has no idea about what I… _feel…_ but when we shake hands or I pat his shoulder or he pats mine… there is _something_…"

Oh yeah, I knew what he meant and he was about to walk seeing into plenty of problems but I knew as well that it wasn't a thing you could switch off just like that.

"Do you know if he's straight?"

"I know tha he has no problems with homosexuality but tha doesn't necessarily mean he's bi or gay, right?" he muttered.

"Do I know him?" I asked and he nodded again, but didn't say a name.

I decided not to dig deeper since he obviously wasn't ready to say who it was. With a sigh he reached out for my mug, handing it over to me again and scooted back to the other side of the couch, where he pulled his knees up to his chest to rest his chin on top of them. The worry was back in his eyes and it was now that I realized that for few moments our little change of topic had managed to distract me. But only for those few moments. I squeezed my eyes shut briefly and breathed out audibly.

"Give him some time. He loves yer, John. Yer know tha, don't yer?"

A breathless chuckle fell from my lips. Not a second I had doubted that Randy loved me and maybe that made everything even worse.

"Yeah, I know. But I guess sometimes love just ain't enough. You know, I really thought we were meant to be forever. It was perfect," I said absentmindedly, gaze fixed on the cooling tea. "Huh, I wanted to propose to him. And I wanted our fourth anniversary to be the day when we get married. Nothing official, just a small ceremony for us and a handful of special people. And now? Nothing is left…"

I trailed off and Stephen didn't say anything, only gazed at me with a compassionate expression, waiting for me to continue. But I couldn't. I couldn't say even one more word. Only a small keening sound passed my lips and I closed my eyes against a sudden burning in them, hiding my face against my knees. The mug was taken from my hand again and the comforter was being pulled tighter around my shoulder. Faintly I heard Stephen murmur my name as he smoothed a hand over my hair.

I had planned on proposing to Randy this weekend and the ring I had bought for him was sitting in our closet, hidden between some of my old sweaters. Waiting to be revealed. It was captivating in its simplicity, dark grey and broad, the surface slightly hammered and matted and it looked as classy as it looked strong. It matched Randy perfectly. It had been the first thing I thought the second my eyes fell on it.

I wanted to ask him after a nice dinner at his favorite Italian, that small restaurant with the nicely hidden table in the far corner of the room… between the main dish and the dessert. It would have been the perfect moment at the perfect place…

Time passed and I had no idea how long I had been sitting like this, caught in this surge if memories, thoughts, feelings and tears when Stephen pulled me gently up from my place and steered me to the guestroom. He tucked me in and sat beside me on the bed, back against the headboard. A broad hand settled on my shoulder and again its touch worked soothing. At least a bit.

Quietness spread, filling the room just like the silvery moonlight falling through the window. My eyes found the moon, pale and cold, familiar and beloved because it was an image I had seen so very often in uncountable nights. Nights I had spent holding Randy close to me, with my eyes fixed on the moon over his shoulder. Watching over him while he slept peacefully, listening to his breathing. Feeling him…

It was the last thing I knew before I drifted off. That and the soothing hand on my shoulder, telling me that I wasn't alone…

x

Pain. Glaring, pounding, threatening to make my head burst. It was the first thing I became aware of as I came around from a black nothing. With it came acute sickness and I managed to roll over to the edge of the bed at the last second before I threw up. My stomach cramped, making me retch so hard that I couldn't take a breath in between and the bitter, sour taste of bile on my tongue made it almost impossible to stop. By the time I began to feel dizzy I was sure I would choke on my own vomit and the lack of air. And maybe it would have been better… but as things went, my stomach relaxed in the last possible moment and I drew a deep breath, choking fading into hyperventilating in a blink. Blindly I reached for a pillow, pressing in onto my face, breathing into it in an attempt to get control over my breathing and after what seemed like an eternity it worked.

I pulled the pillow away and groaned lowly as bright daylight hit my eyes. I wanted to turn away from it, but every tiny movement aggravated the pain in my head and so I narrowed my eyes against the light. I felt like dying. I felt sick, my head was about to explode, my body hurt and my still alcohol dazed mind reached out to the one person who could make it better... _Johnny_… and the tears which had so adamantly refused to fall the day before now spilled from my eyes, hot and biting. John wasn't here and maybe I would never again be with me. Rolling onto my side, curling up to a ball I stifled the cry of pain as I buried my face in my pillow and with a shaking hand I pulled the blanket over my head, surrendering to the influx of agony and desperation that left me sobbing and trembling.

Eventually I managed to get a grip on me and although I felt much too weak to get up I crawled out of the bed, groaning, still trembling and it was now that I really realized that I was in a _bed_, not on the couch... stark naked and I couldn't remember how I had gotten up here. I couldn't remember anything at all after I went down and got me something to drink… Pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes I breathed through another wave of flaring pain and sickness as I sat up, ignoring my body which demanded to get back under the blanket. I had to get up and back home, to John and… beg him for forgiveness.

Somehow I made the way to the bathroom without throwing up again or tripping over my own feet and the first thing I did was rinsing my mouth, brushing my teeth, rinsing my mouth and brushing my teeth again until the nasty taste of the bad idea of drinking my problems away was gone. Rummaging in the medicine cabinet I found some painkillers, willed them down my throat and fought my stomach which tried to get rid of them again. And because I couldn't face John the way I smelled right now I stepped under the shower, not sure if it would do my headache good but to my surprise it cleared my mind and worked soothing, the pounding in my head fading a bit.

After getting out of the shower I stepped in front of the mirror, for the first time feeling up to take a look at me since I got in here and… my world shattered for the second time within three days. I refused to believe what my eyes showed me. This couldn't be. This…

"No… nonono, _god_ _no, please_…!" I breathed in utter disbelief and panic and I had to brace on the sink as my knees threatened to give out under me.

Lifting a shaking hand up to my neck I stared at a purple spot there. I knew it was a vain attempt yet I rubbed my fingers over the spot in the ridiculous hope I could wipe it away. Tears welled up in my eyes again, running down my cheeks while I kept rubbing at the hickey until the skin around it was red and sore, whispering _no_ over and over again like a mantra, pleading, _begging_…

Minutes later I sat on the floor of the bathroom, hunched over. Crying again. Still. Trying hard to remember what had happened after I had started to get drunk the night before but there was only _nothing_. This couldn't be. It couldn't be real. I loved John and I would, could never cheat on him yet the hickey was _there_!

"_Fuck_…!"

I had cheated on John, goddamn I had cheated on him, had betrayed him…

"Oh god…"

If possible reality became more real with every torturing second and I cradled my head in my hands, terrified beyond words under its crushing weight.

"John," I whispered tearstained. "Johnny… I'm so sorry… so sorry…"

If there had ever been the tiniest chance that he would forgive me… I had destroyed it. No way he would, could forgive me _this_. _I wouldn't forgive me if I was him._ I should never have come here. I had known it.

My head snapped up and over to the door. I had to get out here, away. Back home. I needed to talk to John, to explain and apologize. I owed him at least that, even if it meant that he… that it… would be… over. That I would lose him for good.

A wailing sob dropped from my lips as I hung my head, resting my forehead against my knees and hit the floor with my fists, breathing harshly for a minute or two before I found the strength to get up again. Hoping Sam wouldn't notice me leaving I threw my clothes on, grabbed my stuff and fled from her house.

Jumping in my car I drove just around the corner and out of view before I grabbed my cell, hitting Stephen's number. For much too long seconds nothing happened. But then I heard his voice on the other end of the line. I opened my mouth to speak, but the words got stuck in my throat.

"Randy?" he asked confused.

I swallowed hard and willed my voice to work.

"Is… is John still with you?" I croaked.

"Uhm, yeah. But he's about to head back home and…"

"Go with him," I interrupted him, the anguish I felt showing up in my voice. "Please."

"Home with him? God, Randy, what happened?" he asked deeply worried and I knew he didn't mean the part he already knew.

"Just… promise that you go with him. Please. I… I need your help when I get back home," I replied and my voice was close to breaking. "I messed things up, Stephen. I've ruined it…"

There was a short pause and I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to bite back the still falling tears.

His voice was a whisper as he asked: "Randy… what did yer do?"

Again the words got stuck in my throat as I wanted to tell him… it… and when I finally pressed the words out they were wrapped in a sob.

"I… I think I… slept with Sam…"

A shocked gasp. And then utter silence and I expected him to end the call and break off our friendship. He didn't though.

"_What the fuck?_ Haven't you pulled _enough_ bullshit on him already,_ you goddamn bastard_?" Stephen growled suddenly and I almost wanted to thank him for not hanging up on me. There was an angry groan through the line and a brief catch in his enraged breathing before he added with a slight tinge of confusion: "Wait, what do you mean, you _think_ you slept with her? Why were you with her at all?"

"After John left I didn't want to be alone and… I wanted to see Alanna but she's with her grandparents and Sam offered me to stay in the guestroom," I whispered, wishing I would never have accepted her offer. "And yesterday I got drunk and… this morning I found a hickey on my neck but I can't remember what happened after I started drinking… Stephen, I need to know that you're gonna be there for him when… I have to go."

"Christ, _Randy_…" he whispered in reply. "Okay. Listen, I'm gonna call Phil and I want yer to go to him… if John sends yer away. Yer hear me? I want to be sure tha yer are not gonna do anything stupid. _Promise_ _me_ tha yer go to him."

I promised him and then he told me that he had to go and talk to John, to tell him that he would come with him. The silence as the line fell dead hit me like a blow because it meant that it was time.

Time to go home and face what I had caused.

The ride back home seemed to take forever and it gave my mind the time to play uncountable scenarios of what would happen the second I faced John and in between that horror it showed me memories of the times when we were happy. Again and again I wiped the tears away from my cheeks, blinking to clear my vision.

It… _we_ had never been supposed to end… and all I could hope for was that one day he would be able to forgive me enough that we could be friends again…

John's car wasn't there when I pulled into the driveway. In a way I was glad because it gave me the time to get some of my stuff and find the guts to tell John what had happened. As I dug through my closet I found… John's old baseball cap, the one which I had kept all those years… I ran a finger over the worn fabric, before I took it and placed it on top of my clothes.

And then I sat in our… his… living room, waiting. Terrified. My heart was lurching in fear, pounding painfully against my chest and it stole my breath. I had no fucking idea how to start, what to say. I'm sorry, I love you? Yeah, sure… that would make things undone and good again. Emotionally stunted was an understatement.

My eyes roamed the room. Everything here made me feel safe and good. This house… it was my home. John was my home and I had no idea how to go on without him. I simply should have trusted him. Fuck, I knew John always fixed the shit I cause, made things alright again no matter what had happened. Always. He'd done it so damn often that I owed him more than I could ever give him back in one lifetime. It had always been like that. And I should have known that he would have done it again… if I had only given him the fucking chance. An insight that came much too late.

Once again.

Slowly I got up and walked over to the counter, gaze fixed on something I had seen so often in the past three years that at some point I had stopped being aware of it. A picture. It showed Ally sitting on John's shoulders while leaning over to me to give me a kiss. The way John looked at me that moment, the way I looked at him… pure and undisguised love… and I remember that I held his hand when Sam took it. Our family portrait, as John always used to say.

It was the sound of the opening door that made me freeze in cold fear while my eyes stayed fixed on the picture, holding on to the perfection that had once been John and me…


	4. The mark

Now, now, here is part 4. A Johnny-POV.

Sorry, I don't have much time to write lately but I hope it'll get better soon :3

Anyway, hope you'll like it!

* * *

I pulled into the driveway and shut the motor off. For a moment I stared at my hands on the steering wheel, before looking to my left at Randy's car. So he was already there. Or still.

Ever since the moment Stephen had told me he would come with me… because Randy had asked him to… ever since then I felt a mixture of nervousness, fear and anger simmer in my guts because in a way I wanted to see him, yet I did not. I missed him but I was still pissed and I was scared that he might make a final cut. The fact that he wanted Stephen here wasn't helping.

I got out of my car with my eyes still on Randy's and they caught a glimpse of his bag. So he hadn't taken his stuff back in and I wondered if that meant that he was afraid I would kick him out… or if he didn't plan on staying.

On my way to the front door I saw Stephen's car stop in front of the house and although he had asked me to wait for him, I couldn't. I needed to go in there, needed to see him and the door jumped open under my hands. My heart began to race, pounding hard against my chest, making it difficult to breath and the knot in my guts grew as I stepped in, leaving the door open for Stephen.

I didn't have to go far before my eyes caught sight of him, standing at the counter with our family portrait in his hands. The man I saw there standing wasn't the man who told me we should take a break. He looked at it with such a longing that it tugged painfully at my heart and my determinedness.

"John…" he said quietly, breathless almost.

Somehow it made my skin crawl. He sounded scared and it made me feel goddamn torn because a part of me wanted to go over and comfort him while the other hissed that he deserved it. He had been the one who destroyed all we had. But then he turned his face slightly towards me and the expression I found there shook me to the core. He wasn't _scared_… he was terrified. His eyes were big and glassy, puffy and red. He'd cried. And this very second I saw new tears spill from his eyes, running down his face. A sight I had never been able to bear because although Randy was caring, warm-hearted, loving and utterly attached to those he loved, he seldom cried so openly, not even in my presence. And I knew he only cried when something was really baldy wrong. To all the bad feelings which were already coiling up in my stomach added a misgiving.

Yeah, I was pissed and it should have been his fucking turn to make the first step this time… but I loved him and pushing aside what had happened I wanted to go over to him and gather him in my arms.

But something in his eyes shifted, giving way to… guilt, deepest, bitterest guilt… and he stopped me with a pained _don't_ that made my skin crawl again.

Behind me I heard the door being closed and quiet steps, coming to stop beside me and for the first time Stephen had told me he would come home with me I was grateful that he was here. From the corner of my eye I saw him nod. And then I watched as Randy's brows furrowed in pure sorrow. Turning his face away from me again he gazed back at the picture he still held in his hands.

"I'm so sorry, John," he whispered as if his voice refused to work and I found myself unable to say even one word, paralyzed by the bad feelings in my guts as they got heavier. I heard how his breath hitched as he trailed his fingertips lovingly over the picture and then, so very quietly, he continued: "I'm sorry for what I said to you. I never meant it, I was just… so fucking scared that I could lose Ally and… I don't know why I snapped. You were right, there was no reason to. You were so goddamn right with everything you said and I should have trusted you because… _shit_, I know you would have found a way because you _always_ do. You always do…"

Maybe I could have expected a better apology from him. Maybe. But I wouldn't even have given a fucking shit if he would just have settled for a simple _sorry_, because fuck, it was highly visible that he really was sorry. I knew him, knew that he wasn't good at talking and I simply loved this goddamn bastard too much to not accept even his lousiest attempt to say sorry. Yet… this hadn't been all he wanted to say. The feeling that there was more to come hung heavy in the air between us. Very carefully he placed the picture back down and braced his hands on the edge of the counter, hanging his head in defeat and I couldn't recall that I had ever seen him so small, so lost. Maybe I was weak but who cared? I for sure as hell not. Not anymore. Every fiber of my body screamed to comfort him, feel him.

Again I wanted to go over to him, wanted to show him that it would we would be okay again when I felt Stephen's hand on my shoulder, holding me back and surprised I tried to shake it off, but his hold got firmer and he curtly shook his head no. What really stopped me though was the expression on his face. Like he knew that there _was_ _more_, that there was something worse than what had already happened. Gazing back to Randy I found him still bracing on the counter, trembling. He was breathing fast and shallow, close to hyperventilating. And suddenly I felt like throwing up.

"Randy?" was all I managed to say, the single word choked, with so many questions lying in it.

But it was the one question that lay smothering on my mind. What the fuck happened?

He lifted a trembling hand, wiping the wetness from his face before he hesitantly looked at me again, adding in a voice so desperate my heart ached: "I never wanted to break up. I love you, John, so much it hurts, that it tears me apart. I love you so damn much like never before anyone else and I don't know how to live without you."

His voice trailed off at the last words, dropping to a begging whisper, while the tears kept running down his face. The knot of all those bad feelings in my stomach was slowly becoming unbearable although it should have been otherwise. Randy was apologizing but his words were thick with something I couldn't put my fingers on and the way he stood there…

Wrenching my shoulder free I slowly walked over to him, stopping as he flinched hard. It sent a cold shiver down my spine and made the hair on my neck stand on end. A lump formed in my throat and I had to swallow hard to clear it.

"It's okay, Randy," I replied, trying to sound as calming as possible although I was far from being calm. "Calm down. We're gonna be okay."

There was a slight catch in his movement as he finally straightened up, stifling a sob.

"No, we're not. I've ruined it," he said then unsteady, his voice close to breaking as he turned to face me.

"No, you didn't…" I began, wanting to tell him that he should stop worrying but the words died in my throat.

I froze and my world stopped turning as my eyes found a purple mark on his neck. A mark that hadn't been there the last time I had seen him. It hadn't… it hadn't been there…

_No, nonono, please no, someone tell me it's not true…_

Reaching blindly for the couch as I felt my knees go weak my fingers found it and I sat down on the armrest, my eyes still fixed on that fucking mark. The knot in my guts uncurled. I couldn't breathe. My blood was buzzing in my ears… I opened my mouth to ask _why_ but I had no breath left to speak. Yet he seemed to understand and I watched him pale even more.

"After you left, I… I wanted to see Ally," he began to explain monotone, guilty… beaten… "She was with her grandparents. Sam… she offered me to stay at the guest room and…"

I heard his words through the buzzing in my ears and it was her name that hit me like a blow, the meaning of what he was telling me causing my body to go numb.

"Sam?" I breathed, refusing to accept it but it was the fucking reality. "Sam," I hissed and saw Randy flinch and back off.

I wanted to be angry but I couldn't. All there was… was utter and cold disappointment. First he had to freak out and then he had nothing better to do than going to his ex-wife and… It was a hickey, a goddamn fucking hickey!

"I didn't want that, I… I was drunk and I can't remember how it happened. I can't even remember what happened at all," he whispered as he took a hesitant step towards me. "When I woke up this morning it was there. John, I know that being drunk isn't an excuse but…"

"You're damn right, being drunk is no bloody excuse for fucking your ex-wife!" I spat, the feeling of disappointment and betrayal burning a hole in my heart. "You _know_ what can happen when you get drunk and you've got nothing better to do than to boozing your brains out with _her_ around?! But hey, you broke up with me, so it wasn't even cheating, was it?"

With slow steps he approached me but I saw him flinch again as my words hit home. As much as I had _wanted_ to have him close a few minutes ago, right now I couldn't stand the mere thought right now, so I got up, bringing some distance between us again.

"I love _you_, not her, Johnny," he begged as he gingerly followed me.

He was holding a hand out to me. My eyes dropped to it for a brief moment, noticing that it was trembling, that Randy was still trembling and when I looked back up to him instead of taking it, it dropped lifelessly to his side.

"Yeah, Randy, and I love you but that doesn't change anything. I came here, hoping we could talk and just forget the shit that happened. You know, I stopped counting how often you pulled bullshit on me but it has never been something I couldn't get over but _this_ is something I _can't_ _forget_."

Scrubbing my face with my hands I groaned quietly in defeat as my life broke to pieces. I could cope with his usual messing things up but betrayal and disloyalty were things I couldn't live with and he knew that. He knew that _very well_ and if possible he paled even more, shaking his head slightly no. He swayed lightly and from the corner of my eye I saw Stephen step up to him, steadying him.

"I'm done with this," I added quietly, my voice trembling for a second before I coughed it away. "I want you out here today. I'm gonna ask Vince for a few days off and visit my parents. You can get the rest your stuff when I'm away."

With that I turned away from him and walked over to the stairs in an attempt to escape the here and now. It hurt. My heart, my body, my soul, _it fucking hurt._ My name was being called, tearstained, begging, but I willed my feet to move forward and just when I reached the stairs there were quick steps behind me and fingers that closed around my wrist to hold me back.

"Please, John, please, don't do that," he whispered right beside me. "I'm gonna do anything you want me to, just… just give me a last chance. _I beg you._"

I couldn't look him in the eyes because I knew it might break me if I did, so instead I gazed down at his hand holding on to my wrist and hissed as a sudden urge to get away crawled up my back: "Let go!"

A moment of hesitation. Another whispered, begging _please_. And then his fingers slipped from my arm. I went up to our… my bedroom without another word, without another glance back. Closing the door behind me I let my eyes roam the room that only three days ago had been filled with perfect happiness. Just like the whole house. And now? It seemed like the happiness had been absorbed by a leaden void.

My eyes roamed further and on their way through the room they found the he had been reading lately, the CD he'd been hearing. On the bed lay the tank he'd been wearing that last night before our world came crushing down. And then my gaze fell on the closet. My feet carried me over to it and my hands opened the doors, blindly feeling between my old sweaters. The situation was somehow… surreal. My fingers found what they'd been looking for, closing around the small item between the clothes… retrieving what should have been the next step in our already perfect life. Only that it had never really been perfect. In a perfect life there wouldn't have been the need to hide… us. No keeping what we had a secret, no fear of losing the custody for Ally… nothing of it would have happened.

Just when the small box snapped open between my fingers I heard the door behind me click and swing open, hoping it wasn't Randy, yet I didn't take a look who it was, keeping my eyes fixed on the ring. It was so achingly reminding me of him that after a few long seconds I had to flip the box shut again.

"John? Yer okay?"

Stephen's voice was low and worried and I had to puff a mirthless chuckle because was really asking me that.

"_Oh_, the love of my life just revealed me that he cheated on me with his ex. Wait, let me think… _yeah_, I feel goddamn _amazing_."

A sigh. Steps coming closer and then he was standing beside me while I still stared on the closed box.

"Sure yer doing the right thing?"

He'd asked me that once before and he had been right to ask me.

"No, I'm not," I answered, just like the last time.

Down there it had felt like the right thing to do and now, standing here with the ring in my hand, there was something nagging deep in me, telling me that maybe, just maybe I wasn't so sure anymore. But that something was barely there…

"I think yer overreacted."

Silence. He hadn't said that, had he?

"I _what_? Overreacted?!" I snapped, meeting his gaze. His always worried eyes met mine and what irked me the most was that he was probably right with it, that I overreacted, just like right now and I wanted to apologize but what came out was: "He just told me that he _cheated_ on me! So I guess, _no_, I'm _not_ overreacting!"

Folding his arms he replied: "He doesn't even _know_ what happened. Cheating requires tha yer are aware of what yer are doing. Whatever happened, he didn't want it."

"Oh yeah, _right_, he was so drunk that he can't remember. My bad, the _poor_ thing!" I snapped. "I beg to differ, Stephen, being drunk isn't a fucking complimentary ticket!" I watched him tighten his lips to a thin and wry line and then it dawned on me. "You knew it."

Scratching the back of his head Stephen nodded ruefully.

"Yeah, he told me when he called me this morning," he admitted softly. "Tha's why he wanted me to come with you. He wanted to make sure yer are not alone after… well, after yer kicked him out."

Averting my eyes I whispered: "You knew it…"

… _after you kicked him out…_

And Randy had known, too. He'd know how I would react, still he had chosen to tell me the truth instead of waiting a few days until the hickey was gone. At least I could be sure now that he would never lie to me.

"Why didn't you say a word?" I wanted to know, noticing how hoarse my voice suddenly sounded.

Stephen shrugged his shoulders and ran his fingers through his hair.

"And what exactly should I have told yer? I'm caught between two stools here, John. Yer are my friends, you and tha idiot down there, but I think I'm not the right person to tell yer tha he maybe has cheated on yer."

He had a point there. I breathed deeply, trying to get my head free but it was a vain attempt. Stepping even closer he put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing and squeezing it soothingly.

"He loves yer, John. _He really loves yer_."

I blinked once. Yeah, Randy did love me…

"I never doubted that, Stephen," I whispered harshly and added much softer: "And god knows I love him."

Another squeeze.

"Then why can't yer go down there and give the two of yer a last chance?"

As calm as his voice was, however he managed to keep it like this, it was insistently, dunning almost and then he rested his forehead against my temple. The innocent act of friendship sent a jolt through me, making my heart drop painfully because this kind of touch… it reminded me of Randy. Back then in my kitchen after I had revealed him my love and in my living-room before I kissed him for the first time. I could still feel his hands on my belly, remembered his voice close to my ear, his scent…

_Randy…_

A pained little sigh that was more of a sob fell from my lips.

"I… can't just go down there and ignore what happened. Not now. I need time," I rasped.

"I know it's hard and yer I can understand tha you need time, but I'm telling yer the same thing I told him: don't wait too long," he murmured as his hand brushed up to my nape, lingering there. "The two of yer are perfect together, so don't throw tha away. He did something _very_ stupid, _if_ he did it, but yer shouldn't let it destroy what the two of yer have. _John_, you even wanted to _propose_ to him."

My fingers closed around the small box and my hand dropped to my side as I realized a bitter truth.

"He wouldn't have said yes," I exhaled, tipping my head back while closing my eyes as tears stung in them.

"How can yer know tha?" Stephen asked quietly. "This man loves yer, why shouldn't he have said yes?"

"Because he would know that I'm not proposing to him proforma and that sooner or later I would want to make it official," I replied then, swallowing hard on the nasty taste the words left in my mouth. "I really thought we were ready to take the next step and stop hiding but… jesus, I was so wrong. I was so damn wrong… I didn't have the faintest idea that he was so afraid about people finding out about us, he never said a fucking word. But maybe I should have known it. Huh, and here I was gloating about knowing Randy better than he knows himself and now it feels like I don't know him at all…"

I had held the box in my hand uncountable times since I had bought the ring but I couldn't remember that it had ever felt so heavy on my palm like it did now. A beautiful piece of jewelry… so useless.

"It's not yer fault, he should have talked to yer sooner but I'm sure he would have…" he began but trailed off when I turned around, making my way to the door because I didn't want the ring here any longer. "Wait, where are yer going?"

"I don't need it anymore," I muttered.

He followed me, his hand landing heavily on my shoulder to stop me but I shook it off and I heard him ask me not to do that. I ignored him. And with every step the small box weighed heavier and heavier…

* * *

A/N

Yeah, I know, all drama and stuff, but really, you now me, I can't go without it :3

It's not gonna be drama forever, promise ;D

Liked it? Then make me a happy girl and leave a few words!

Kisses and hugs!


	5. Apart

Now, now, here comes part 5. Not the longest one, I know ;-)

Part 6 will have one or two surprises for you and I promise this isn't going to be drama until the end.

A short announcement: I'm gonna be on vacation the upcoming week (and I'm not having Internet there) and I hope to come back with a lot to post XD

Anyway, for all those who are waiting for Angel to be continued, I promise the next part will be the first thing I'm gonna post when I'm back.

Kisses, hugs and I love you! for all of you out there!

* * *

Never before in my life had I wished a situation to be a bad dream like I wished now. I prayed, begged that I would wake up any second, finding John's worried eyes hovering above me, hearing him tell me that the bad dream was over. Like he'd done every time I had been caught in a nightmare in the past three years. He used to place soothing kisses on my forehead, wrapping his arms around me so I could hide… John had always been my shelter, my stronghold…

It wouldn't be like that from now on. And this… I had managed to make a fucking nightmare become reality…

I had sent Stephen after John and now I was sitting here, alone, wishing I wasn't. This couch, it held so many memories of perfect moments together. Just like this whole house. Head bowed utter defeat, cradled in my hands, I closed my eyes against tears which wouldn't stop falling and a buzzing in my ears deafened me… almost.

There were steps, coming down the stairs and my chest clenched when I saw John come down, an unreadable expression on his face. For the briefest moment I felt a tiny flicker of hope that he maybe wanted to listen to me but it died away the second I noticed Stephen right behind him, because the expression I found on _his_ face told me that John wasn't here to listen. To the pressure on my chest added a freezing cold grip around my heart.

Slowly I got up, torn between running away and pull him into my arms and hold on to him until he would forgive me, but all I could do was standing there, frozen to the spot and barely able to breath while the grip around my heart tightened to the point I was sure it would stop beating any second.

Stephen stopped him, at the bottom of the stairs. I watched him grab John's arm to hold him back and with a hissed _stop_ he stepped into his way. And John stopped, the unreadable expression wavering just long enough to show deepest sorrow lying underneath.

It was my fault. I had done that to him.

"Don't do tha, John," I heard Stephen murmur and John's eyes flicked over to me, back to Stephen and then down to his hand.

There was a flash of determination in his eyes, causing heavy queasiness to roll through me and I had to sit back down as my knees buckled. And then John wanted to step around Stephen but again he was held back.

"_No_, I can't let yer do tha," Stephen said, his tone was almost threatening.

It seemed to work since John brushed a hand over his forehead, nodding, before he handed something over to Stephen. And all I could do was watch. I couldn't get up, couldn't speak… couldn't breathe… He turned to go back up again, gazing at me once more with eyes which sent a chill through me. I had never seen them like this. Broken. Hollow. Hurt, disappointed and… I averted my eyes then, because I couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand that he looked at me that way, that I had caused it. The tears came back to my eyes, or maybe they had never left. Did it make a difference…?

His steps were heavy on the stairs as he left and probably loud enough for him to miss as I said his name. A plea. Or maybe he ignored it. That, too, didn't make a difference because it didn't change a thing. He wouldn't come back.

After a moment the cushion dipped as Stephen sat down beside me with a helpless sigh. A hand settled on my shoulder, gentle and in an attempt to be soothing and I wished it would have worked because it fucking didn't. I felt a sob crawl up my throat and taking a shuddering breath I willed, fought it back down as I looked up to him. He met my gaze with a soft and compassionate expression. Again I wished it would work. But again it didn't. _It fucking didn't._

A breathless and bitter chuckle passed my lips and it turned into that goddamn sob I had tried to hold back. My name was murmured and my shoulder was squeezed and I hung my head, once more cradling it in my hands.

It was a small movement I noticed from the corner of my eyes as he hid his other hand out of my sight that reminded me of something.

"What did he give you?" I whispered unsteady and there was a feeling in my guts that I shouldn't ask, but somehow I needed to know.

He moved his hand a bit more out of my sight and cleared his throat. I knew he would try to dodge my question.

"I texted to Phil to come and pick yer up," he said quietly and there was another squeeze.

"What did he give you?" I repeated, this time more insistently.

No answer.

"_Stephen_…!"

I wanted to snap at him but it sounded so goddamn pathetic that I almost had to laugh. His hand slipped from my shoulder, landing on his leg as a clenched fist.

"I don't know if…" Stephen began but trailed off as I whispered a _please_.

The hidden hand appeared in my line of sight. His finger unfurled, revealing… a small black box. A small… black box.

_No…_

It couldn't be, could it? What I thought it was?

_No…_

Reaching out with a trembling hand I took it, briefly closing my eyes against a sharp and stinging pain in my chest… running my thumb over the smooth surface of the box, over its edge… and then it snapped open.

My world stilled as my eyes fixed on the ring.

"He wanted to propose to yer tha weekend," he explained softly.

My mind, my heart… _everything_ narrowed on that ring in my hand and suddenly Stephen's arms wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me tight against him. I was gripped by pain, my whole being was… _pain_.

The buzzing returned, swallowing his voice as he kept talking to me. The buzzing brought an odd numbness along… I didn't hear anything… didn't feel anything except numbness and the pain underneath… there was nothing but that ring and what it _meant_.

Nothing. There was nothing left…

At some point I faintly noticed being urged to get up from the couch and there were hands, steering me. My fingers curled around the small box while I was pushed and tugged out of the house to a car. Phil's car. Into Phil's car. Stephen's face appeared in my view, deeply worried, and he was talking to me. I didn't hear his words. The ride to Phil's place went by in a blur and again I was being steered, pushed and pulled until I sat on a bed.

But all the time… all that was really _there_… was that box.

Phil squatted down in front of me, giving me a soft shake and he was talking to me, maybe asking me something because he stared at me as if he expected an answer.

"I… want to be alone…"

Even my own voice was dimmed by the buzzing. Phil nodded, deep worry written all over his face, before he rose and left. Leaning forward I braced my elbows on my knees, cradling the black box in my hands and like before I ran a thumb over its smooth surface before snapping it open.

_He wanted to propose to yer tha weekend…_

I never mentioned my fear about us being found out about. Not one single time in those three years and in all that time John had been the perfect partner, unknowing about my fears. I never even gave him the chance to help me and find a way for us. And then... Sam. God... I still couldn't believe it had happened... It should never have... I never wanted it. I didn't even feel anything for her anymore...

And John… he'd really wanted to marry me, wanted to make it official and he would have given up everything. For me. I had known that before, that he would do anything for me. It's what he'd always told me and I had never doubted it, yet this ring made it so much more _real_. And I destroyed it. He probably thought now that I never wanted this to be the real thing, that I wouldn't have said yes if he'd asked me.

And maybe I really wouldn't have. God, maybe I really wouldn't have said yes to the man I loved more than my own life… Because of my goddamn stupidity and ridiculous fear and headless panic.

Crawling onto the bed I curled up to a ball, closed my eyes and the box, holding it safely against my heart… hoping that Stephen could somehow catch John's fall. I surrendered, letting pain and numbness weigh down on me for I didn't know how long until I slipped into a deep and lonely nothing.

x

I stood at the window, gazing down onto the yard when he came in and I kept my back towards him. There was no need to see his face, I already knew how he looked at me. I could almost hear it in the way he walked up behind me or feel it in the way his eyes bore into the back of my head.

"_John_…"

Just one word. But it was enough, this one word. A tinge of annoyance, lying underneath the lingering worry and his heavy Irish accent. I knew what he wanted to say and it caused a twinge of conscience deep in me. I shoved it aside and waited however, because he needed to say it and get it out of his system. And a dark part of me _wanted_ him to say it, wanted him to give me a reason to start a fight… because I fucking needed something to distract me. I needed something else to focus on. Every single moment felt like walking on the brink and my feet were already slipping.

"_Stephen_," I replied, trying to match his tone.

A strange feeling crawled up my spine, making me shudder ever so slightly as I felt his stare intensify.

"What is wrong with yer?" he asked after a moment and to worry and annoyance added confusion. "Going down there to give him the ring and tell him yer don't need it anymore is downright cruel. What the fuck, John? Tha's not yer. The John I know wouldn't do tha."

I huffed, shaking my head slightly no, but didn't move otherwise. But he did, stepping closer to me. I could practically feel the hum of his presence at the close proximity. It was ridiculous, this whole thing. Suddenly Randy wasn't the Randy anymore I had known all those years and I wasn't the John Stephen knew. And he was fucking right. It was so unlike me to dig for a fight with one of my best friends for nothing and it for sure was unlike me to attempt hurting Randy intentionally, even if emotionally. Randy was the love of my life, goddammit… And I would have hurt him I Stephen wouldn't have stopped me.

"What are you, Farrelly, a saint?" I more or less spat, the words tumbling out of my big mouth before I could stop them.

I still needed a distraction and that dark part of me still called for a fight although I didn't really want to, yet I couldn't stop myself.

"No, John, I'm yer friend," he spoke very softly then and so very close, the annoyance fading away completely. "Just as I am Randy's friend and I'm not gonna watch yer hurt him on purpose. And this now? I know what yer are trying and I'm not gonna fight with yer."

His arms circled my waist then in a gentle embrace, making me flinch slightly at the unexpected gesture. A blink later I was being pulled back against his chest and I wondered at which point we had crossed the line of becoming tactile like this. I didn't mind though, because it wasn't the first time I noticed how much comfort his touch provided. It made me feel safe somehow.

I had to smile despite the situation. Stephen was one of a kind. Compassionate, empathic, a good listener, funny, smart. His presence worked soothing, his touch provided comfort. And maybe if I hadn't lost my heart to Randy, I might have lost it to Stephen…

"Calm down, Johnny, and then think about it again. Yer are in the goddamn lucky situation that you can be with the one yer love. Don't throw tha away."

There was a note in his words, something sad… and I remembered what he'd told me. That he was in love… with a man. That man could count himself lucky…

"Who is it?" I asked quietly, and here was my much needed distraction.

He tensed against me and it betrayed his next words.

"What? I, uhm… what do you mean?"

Knowing that _he_ knew very well what I meant I added nevertheless: "The man you're in love with. Who is it?"

Maybe I had no right to ask him that, yet it helped me not to think about Randy and just maybe Stephen needed someone to listen for once. He wouldn't go and ask me to, since he wasn't the type of guy who bothered others with his emotional distress. Felling his arms around my waist loosen, I brought my hand to his wrists to stop his retreat.

"You know you can trust me. I'm not gonna tell anyone. And maybe it does you good to tell someone," I murmured while I held on to his arms, my eyes staying fixed on an invisible point in the yard. My voice was a mere whisper as I added: "Please help me not to think about him…"

It was poor and pathetic, I knew that. I never found out if he told me the name out of pity or because he had to get it off his heart finally… but it was that one whispered word that surprised me… yet not.

"Phil."

He rested his forehead against the back of my head and his hold on me got firmer again.

"A hard nut to crack," I stated, smoothing a hand over the warm and surprisingly soft skin of his arm.

Phil wasn't homophobic, I knew that, but he was… difficult. Reserved. He didn't trust anyone, bit everyone who tried to get to know him closer away. There were few exceptions. Randy, I and Stephen for example, and Stephen was the exception under the exceptions in my opinion because even at the moments Phil's mood was belowground, it was Stephen who could walk right into his orbit. The worst thing that could happen to him in those moments was that Phil called him big white oaf.

Stephen exhaled audibly and his warm breath trickled against my skin.

"I don't think tha nut can be cracked at all," he muttered crestfallen. A small and bitter laughter followed and then: "Three years ago I didn't even like him and now? Fuck…"

"Hey, come on, he lets you closer than anyone else. It's a first step," I tried to encourage him. "You think he has an idea?"

"No, I don't think so," Stephen sighed. "I don't know what to do about it, John. Hope tha I'll fall out of lover over the time? I'm sure if I try to… get closer to him _tha_ way, he'll kick me out of his life."

I knew what he felt. It was what had tortured me all the time I had been in love with Randy before I had told him the truth. And afterwards that torture changed because he'd known it all the time, accepted it and the way he acted around me left me wondering if there was more from his side. But ever since the moment I had realized that I loved him my love for him had grown. There had never been the chance of falling out of love… although I had wished for it so often that at some point I had stopped counting.

I couldn't tell him what to do and so I settled for the truth, no matter how unpleasant it was to hear.

"Whatever you decide to do, it'll hurt, Stephen. It'll kill you if you don't tell him and it'll kill you if you do and he doesn't react well. Huh, even if he accepts it it's gonna hurt. Unless he feels the same. I know it's not of help but it's the truth."

_And even if he feels the same you can't be sure it won't hurt_, I thought bitterly.

He pressed closer to me then and tightened his hold on me, breathing my name right beside my ear but it didn't carry anything sexual. It was a _help me_ that lay in it and I almost had to laugh at us both for being so pathetic. But we had our reasons, right?

"Yer think yer can live without him?"

It was one of the things I tried so hard not to think about and leave it to Stephen to voice it.

"No," I replied and it was perfectly contradictory to my actions. "But right now I can't live _with_ him."

"Yer gonna regret it if you lose him."

"Yeah, but what if it happens again? He knows that he can't control himself when he drinks too much and still he does it," I huffed, tilting my head back against his shoulder.

"Randy can change, no one knows tha better than yer. He's gonna do anything for a last chance. When he called me… yer should have _heard_ him, he was… is so desperate and scared. Jesus, John, _he loves yer_," Stephen said insistently, his hushed voice still close to my ear and loud enough to cut deep into my heart.

"I don't know, Stephen. I don't know if I…" I stopped mid-sentence and swallowed hard as the pain again threatened to consume me. "Maybe…. after some time I can… try… to live with it. I really don't know…"

He breathed a kiss to my temple and I couldn't help but turn into it.

I felt his lips move softly against my skin as he murmured: "I know it hurts but for yer sake and for Randy's sake… just think about it."

Silence, for a minute, maybe two. That kind of silence I couldn't stand, an uneasy, tense one. A guilty one.

In an attempt to lighten our mood a bit I tried to come up with an amused note as I spoke again: "You know, Farrelly, holding a man like this and kiss him is totally unmanly and gay."

He played along because I could hear the smile in his voice as he replied: "Says the one with the boyfriend. Yer want me to let go?"

"No," I whispered because somehow it felt like his arms were the only thing that kept me from falling apart.

I was grateful that he was here and I was also grateful that Randy had told him to come here with me, to stay with me. And maybe the moment would come when I would be able to thank him for it.

For a long while we stayed like this. Afterwards he went to the guestroom, giving me time and room to think although all I wanted and tried was _not_ to think.

The following night weighed heavy on me. I just _couldn't_ stop thinking but I begged I could, just as I wished I could stop _feeling_. At some point along the night Stephen came in, his quiet steps almost sounding apologizing as he walked up to my bed. The mattress dipped as he crawled in, settling beside me with a sigh and it had probably been his own little personal hell which had made him do that. There were no words, not touches. Only being there.

And even though I could feel him close to me, the place beside me had never felt so unbearably empty…

* * *

**Reviews are love :D**


	6. Listen

Not much to say to this one except I hope you'll like this one (better than the last part ;-)

Oh, and it will get better for the boys, promise :3

Ten points to BrightAsNight and LegacyChick for guessing right ;D and for all those who think: Sheamus/Punk? Really?! Now, it's not that bad, you should give it a shot ;D

* * *

The first thing I noticed when I woke up after a not very restful sleep was a presence at my side. The fact that I still held the small box in my hand made it pretty clear that it hadn't been a bad dream. Opening my eyes my gaze fell on an unfamiliar wall in an unfamiliar room and for a second I had to close my eyes again because it still was there… the numbness and the unbearable pain underneath. There was a hand on my shoulder and when I turned onto my back it slipped off, falling to the mattress with a soft thud. The surprise wasn't who was sitting there beside me, rather _that_ he was sitting there. Woken by my movement he blinked himself awake, yawning heartily, before looking down on me with a soft smile I had seen rarely seen on Phil's face. I tried a smile of my own but failed miserably.

"Morning," he said quietly, settling his hand back on my shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze. "How are you feeling?"

While closing my fingers tightly around the small box, I pushed myself into a sitting position and exhaled audibly, trying to breathe the pressure on my chest away which lingered there since yesterday.

"Like shit," I muttered and frowned at him. "Why are you sitting in bed with me?"

My question wiped the smile right from his face and he sighed.

"I heard you… calling for John in your sleep and came here to wake you, but you wouldn't wake up," he explained slowly. "But you calmed down when I touched you and talked to you, so…"

The compassion shining in his eyes was so unexpected and overwhelming that I had to look away because although I knew he meant good, it only made everything more painful at the moment.

"Randy?"

Taking a deep breath I looked back up to him and this time I managed a smile, even though it was wavering, but I owed him one. This man let me stay here, had even spent the night sitting beside me because I…

"Thanks, Phil, for everything" I replied as shaky as my smile was. And because I couldn't expect to stay at his place for until my life was back in order I added: "I, uhm… I'll look for a hotel room and…"

He shook his head no immediately and I was grateful for it.

"You shouldn't be alone." He hesitated for a moment, chewing on his lip-ring, before asking hushed: "Randy… Stephen didn't say a word about it and you don't need to tell me if you don't want but… what happened? I mean, you and John, to me you were the perfect couple. I really thought there is nothing that could… you know, destroy that."

Pondering if I should tell him or not I gazed at him and between all the turmoil there was a small voice telling me that I could trust him. There had been times when I was glad if this man wasn't in the same room with me but somewhere along the last months my opinion about him had changed and now… this was probably a side of him only a handful of people knew.

"I screwed up," I said then, the guilt in it so heavy that I saw him clench his jaw. "First I freaked because I was afraid that people could find out about us, that I could lose Ally and I broke up with him and then I… huh, I drank and slept with my ex-wife."

His eyes widened almost comically as he listened to me. He opened his mouth, snapped it shut, narrowed his eyes then and it wasn't really a glare, more disbelief.

Then: "Wow."

His tone was dry, as if he couldn't believe it.

"I can't even remember sleeping with her. I have a black-out but the next morning there was the hickey and…" I trailed off, sighing defeated. "Fuck, I didn't want that, I… I love him… I love him…"

Moving closer, he gingerly wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. But just as the day before when Stephen tried to comfort me… it didn't work. John's touch had ruined me for anyone else on this whole bloody world. Forever…

"Maybe… maybe it wasn't your fault? Maybe she took advantage of the situation?" he murmured.

I laughed bitterly at this. Fuck, I wished he was right. God knew how much I wished it…

"Yeah, maybe. But then it is still my fault that I broke up with him for nothing and that I stayed at her place at all, not to mention the drinking enough to lose control," I muttered while unfurling my fingers, revealing the box which had left imprints in my palm from holding on to it too tight. "I don't know if he can forgive me. I don't think I could forgive me if I was him."

I snapped the box open and took the ring out for the first time, running a finger over its soft surface. It was beautiful. It was fucking perfect and I wished nothing more than to wear it after he'd asked me.

"I ruined the best thing in my life…"

My voice was barely a whisper. A single tear rolled down my cheek and I wiped it away with a trembling hand and flinched slightly as Phil took hold of it to soothe the trembling away.

There was an insistent, almost urging note lying in his words as he replied: "You have to fight, Randy. Give him some time and then fight for him. Yeah, maybe you made a big mistake but John loves you and we both know he's not the unforgiving type. It's not hopeless."

After running my finger over the ring one more time I put it back into its box. I had no idea how I should survive this day because I would see John at the company and on top of it all we were scheduled for a match against each other. For a brief moment it crossed my mind to call in sick, but maybe I would get a chance to talk to John again after the match.

I heard Phil ask me if I was up for breakfast but I was far from being hungry and when I shook my head no, he got up from the bed, pulling me with him. Not even twenty minutes and a hot shower later I sat at the kitchen table, a coffee and a bagel right in front of me and a persistent Phil beside me, telling me he wouldn't let me go anywhere without at least that in my stomach. I forced it down then, having a hard time to keep it there.

The time between the breakfast and the moment I stepped into my locker room went by in a blur. I changed into my ring-gear, lost in my thoughts which were revolving around the question how to get through the match, how to get John talking with me… or at least listening to me, although I had no idea what I could say that would change his mind. But Phil was right, I had to fight for him. But waiting? I couldn't risk someone else stepping into his life.

I hadn't seen him on my way to my locker and now, waiting for my music to hit there was also no sign of him. I went out then, like always making my way down to the ramp as usually, slowly, assessing and in the ring I pulled my Adonis-pose. But under the surface there was a current of nervousness, panic, fear and uncertainty ripping through me.

And then John came out. A perfect entrance, all John Cena as the people knew him. He didn't look at me and fuck, it stung. He was ignoring me. Or so I thought. It was in his eyes, the very moment before the match started. Deepest disappointment and the hurt expression. They were still there…

He gave the audience a perfect show and I did my best to keep up with him, but I just couldn't focus. To feel him against me… to feel him under my touch… to hear him breathe heavily… And then we were outside the ring and it happened before my distracted mind could react. He grabbed me by an arm and flung me towards a ring corner and my shoulder collided hard with the ring post and when I realized what was happening it was already too late to brace against the impact. My shoulder exploded in pain. Faintly I heard the crowd cheer and the referee count. Suddenly John was at my side, hissing at me to get up but I couldn't and with a muttered _fuck_ he pulled me up, rolling me into the ring. And he pinned me. I noticed the confused expression on the referees face because I had been scheduled to be the winner and it caused him to hesitate a second, before jumping into action.

John's weight on me vanished. From the corner of my eye I saw him gaze at me with an unreadable expression. It was the last thing I saw from him, because I rolled out of the ring, holding my shoulder which was still on fire and made my way to the backstage like a beaten dog.

Ten minutes later I sat in my locker room, leaning against the wall with my head bowed. The pain in my shoulder had become a dull and persistent pounding. I was glad though that it hadn't been John who got hurt. More than he already was…

I wondered how long it would take until Vince would come to kick my ass and I also wondered where John was in this moment. Tilting my head back against the wall I took a shuddering breath. All those years, even before we became an item, he'd always been waiting for me in my locker after I got hurt in a match, soothing the pain away. But now he wasn't. And it felt so goddamn wrong.

A small part of me wondered if it would be like this from now on, if I would hurt like this, feel numb and alone and hollow for the rest of my life. Probably. I doubted that someone else could ever fill the void that losing John had left in my heart and my life. But it wouldn't happen anyway since I didn't want anyone else but him at my side.

The door to my locker jumped open and I guessed that it was one of the trainers, coming to look after me for the third time within the last ten minutes and so I said as convincing as even possible: "I'm fine."

With a quiet click the door closed again.

"You've never been a good liar."

My eyes snapped open and my head around. John was standing there, still clad in his ring-gear. He was looking me over, the unreadable expression still plastered to his face, his usually warm eyes cold. Holding my breath I got up, taking a step towards him. Stopping when I saw him tense.

"John…"

His name was a mere breath on my lips, a plea, hoping it would get through to his heart. It didn't though.

"How's the shoulder?" he asked quietly, reserved, indifferent even, as if this was only an annoying part of his job.

Summoning all my willpower not to look away from his cold eyes I muttered: "It hurts but it's only a bruise."

John nodded, all business like.

"Okay. Good. I told Vince it was an accident, so he won't kick your ass," he replied, already turning to leave.

"John…" I began but he held a hand up and I could see his jaw muscles jump as he gritted his teeth.

"Look, Randy, I know the situation is…" He stopped mid-sentence, taking a collecting breath and for a brief moment I saw his unreadable mask waver. "I know it's not easy for you. And believe me, it isn't easy for me. But you acted unprofessional out there. You know you have to be focused out there, no matter what. This could have ended much worse. Either you pull yourself together and get the job done or you need to talk to Vince and take some time off until you…"

I flinched as his words hit me and in a desperate attempt to stop this and… and… I don't know what I thought that very second, but I walked up to him, grabbing him by the shoulders and with a gentle push I pinned him against the door.

I kissed him.

It was a desperate kiss, stopping his hurting words, swallowing his surprised gasp. My hands came up to hold his head in place as I kept my lips sealed over his as he shook the surprise off and he brought his hands between us to push me away. My nostrils flared as I took in that fucking sexy scent that always threatened to make me headless… the faint smell of John's shower gel and his after shave, mingled into fresh sweat and pure and unique John. It made my cock stir… I deepened the kiss and he pushed harder to get me off. But I held on to him, molding our bodies together while one of my hands dropped to his waist, trailing to the small of his back and down to his perfect ass to pull him into me. There was a small moan escaping his throat and fuck… his hard dick was poking into my thigh.

I broke the kiss long enough to breathe his name and he used the chance, turning his face away from me.

"Let go," he muttered and this time he pushed hard enough to send me three steps backwards.

_No…_ I thought and wanted to step back up to him again, afraid that if he walked out of here without giving me a last chance, that it was over.

"Don't," he growled and I made me freeze. "Don't, Randy."

The lingering numbness fell off of me, the pain underneath blazing and it knocked the breath out of me.

So all I got out was a croaked: "But I love you, Johnny."

Wiping his hands down his face he laughed mirthlessly and that laughter dropped to a sighed _yeah_. With that he opened the door and… left, without another glance back at me. Just like that.

My knees buckled and dropped to the floor, rocking back and forth. Weeping without tears. Minute after minute until the door opened again but it wasn't John. It was Phil, kneeling down beside me. Holding me. He was _holding_ me. Into my crying mixed a defeated laughter and… he still kept holding me. Murmuring soothing words. Minute… after minute.

Eventually I got a grip on my self-control and calmed down enough to make him believe it was okay for the moment. It wasn't though. I felt like _dying_. He told me to get showered, that he would wait for me at the car. I nodded. What else should have I done?

He left and I did how he had told me, taking my shower, getting dressed… and then my eyes fell on the small black box in my locker.

_He wanted to propose to yer tha weekend…_

Even if it shouldn't have been possible, the pain became worse and I wished the numbness to come back to me. I wouldn't be able to stand this much longer…

I reached out, my fingers curling around the small item. The hopeless part of me took over. And then I left the room and the building, avoiding the parking lot. I felt guilty for leaving Phil behind like this, but I needed to get out, needed to get away. My feet carried me along the streets while my mind was fixed on the box in my hand. Faintly I noticed people bumping into me as they passed me, the traffic noise and the cool air which was making me shiver lightly. They carried me right into a pub where I sat down at the bar, ordering a beer. Alcohol free. Because _fuck_ if I would touch a drop of alcohol again.

Placing the black box in front of me on the bar I opened it. A perfect piece of jewelry. There was a soft sound as I took the ring out of the pad it was sticking in. I slipped it loosely over my index finger, slowly turning the ring around my finger, running the pad of my thumb over its surface. It was rough in a soft way and smooth.

While staring at it I wondered how he would have asked me. I was sure he had planned something nice. Maybe an evening at my favorite Italian? That would have been so very John-like, to chose a place I loved.

With the man I loved…

My hand sank down onto the bar while I hid my face in my free hand, trying to suppress a sob.

It happened in a split-second. There was a tug at my finger and with it the ring… was gone. My eyes snapped back to my finger, finding it _empty_ and I looked around, panicked. And I froze as my gaze fell on a man beside me, holding my ring between his fingers. A white rage exploded in my chest, rolling through me and I slipped from my barstool, reaching out quickly to snatch it from his hand. But he was quicker, holding it out of my reach.

"A fine piece," he grinned, slightly waving with it.

My voice dropped to a threatening growl as I said: "Give. It. Back."

His grin widened.

"Make me, fucker."

x

I pulled my car into the driveway right beside Stephen's and wondered why it was standing there, since I thought he had an appointment today. I shut it off, listening to the dying motor while I kept my hands on the steering wheel, eyes fixed on the door of my garage. I tried to breathe deeply to calm down. Still. Ever since Randy had kissed me. He'd caught me off-guard with that kiss, leaving my traitorous body to betray me with a raging hard-on.

My body knew him, knew his touch, his scent, his kiss. It had been the fucking reason why I had been so reserved towards him as I went there to ask him about his shoulder. After spending the night with tossing and turning, again and again thinking about him, I had been goddamn torn between giving him a last chance and holding on to my decision that it was over. And when I saw him in the ring I was sure that it was too soon to risk that last chance but when he kissed me my heart cried yes and I…

Fuck, I was so confused…

When I had opened my eyes this morning Stephen was still there beside me and although knowing that I wasn't alone felt good, I felt wrong at the same time. That place had been Randy's. Still was. Yet…

Stephen kept urging me to think about it, give Randy that last chance. Telling me over and over again that Randy loved me. I _knew_ that he loved me, but that wasn't the point. How could I be sure that it wouldn't happen again? What if he drank too much again and ended up with someone else? Again. It hadn't been the first time he shot himself out of this world and it wouldn't be the last time. He just couldn't leave it be. I had asked him already more than once.

The morning had been a disaster, because the whole time Stephen had tried to cheer me up a little, to get me talking. With him. About anything I wanted. Maybe even about Phil if it helped.

And about Randy.

But I wasn't up to speaking. All I wanted was to hide because I had no fucking words for how much it hurt. And then the match. I couldn't recall that I've ever before been so afraid of a match. Just hold on to being professional, that was what I had told me to get the job done. And somehow I managed to pull through but then… when Randy hurt his shoulder, I…

Leaning forward I sighed, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. I could still feel Randy's lips on mine. The kiss had been so… desperate…

A knock at the driver's door almost made me jump out of my skin and when I looked over, I found Stephen there. Right, Stephen's car, the appointment… With a weary smile stretching my lips I got out of the car.

"Hey big man," I greeted him, giving him a quick hug. "Glad you're here. But didn't you have an appointment today?"

It was now that I noticed how serious his expression was, almost like something severe had happened. A bad feeling coiled up in my guts immediately and I voice the first thought that came to my mind.

"Did something happen to Randy?"

The briefest of smiles flashed over his face, probably because I worried about Randy. But the serious expression was back in a blink and he… nodded. My heart sunk.

"In a way, yeah." he replied thoughtfully. "Not what yer are thinking, don't worry but… Uhm, yer know, the appointment I had today… ah, fuck. I went to Sam to talk to her."

My worry was wiped away in a blink, replaced by something that couldn't be named angriness, but it was close to it.

"_Sam_…" I hissed and my snappish tone wasn't really directed at him, rather at that brazen woman.

There was a tiny nod from him.

"Let's go in, John," he replied, already turning to walk back into the house. "I brought her here to tell yer what she told me. And yer really need to listen to her."

_Sam_ was _here_. She was in _my_ _house_. I wanted to yell at him for bringing her here and I wanted that bitch to leave and never step into my life again! But instead my mouth was suddenly so damn dry that my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and my feet moved on their own, while my mind came up with a hundred scenarios what she had to say. I followed him into the house and my heart began to pound hard. By the very moment I stepped into the living-room and my eyes caught her, my heart was hammering in my chest. I sat down heavily on the couch and suddenly I was _afraid_ of what she had to tell me. I didn't want to hear again that the man I loved betrayed me. Yet I couldn't get up to flee and it made me feel like a deer caught in the headlight.

She sat on the armchair, somewhat hunched and one of her hands was clenched, holding a tissue while the other stuck in a splint, resting on the armrest. She looked up to me with pure guilt plastered to her face and god, I hoped that guilt would haunt her forever.

Stephen sat down beside me, close enough that our shoulders touched. Averting my eyes I looked for something to stare at, something familiar to hold on to and my gaze found our family portrait. To see it hurt but at the same time it gave me strength. I heard her clear her throat and I tensed automatically, bracing for what was about to come.

Stephen seemed to have noticed it because he patted my knee, murmuring: "Calm down, John. No need to freak, oaky?"

"Funny, Farrelly. My life just went down the sink and I feel like I can't go on. I…" I replied as tense as I felt, stopping because I didn't want her to hear all that.

But why did I tell him? He knew all that already. Sam though flinched. Hard. And I gave me at least a bit of satisfaction. The hand on my knee stayed.

"What is it you have to tell me, Sam?" I asked then clipped, wanting nothing more than to see her walk through the door and out of my life.

I kept my eyes glued to the picture and inched closer to Stephen for reassurance and he hummed just loud enough for me to hear. Sam shifted on the armchair, her expression becoming almost scared.

"I, uhm… Stephen told me what happened," she began quietly.

Huffing I shook my head lightly.

"Yeah, well, I hope it was what you wanted, _Sam_."

My tone was bitter and from the corner of my eyes I saw Stephen look at me… reproachfully?

She got up from her place, taking a step towards me but when I snapped my head around to her, sending her a scorching glare, she froze for a brief moment before turning away and with a sigh she walked over to the window.

"I didn't want that, John," she said and the guilt I had seen on her face coated her words. "When he came to me he was so… sad. And then he began to drink…"

Sam bowed her head a bit, again sighing. An image popped up in my mind, showing me Sam sitting beside Randy, waiting that he would be drunk enough to… Rage began to boil in my guts.

"And you didn't stop him. But hey, maybe it was what you wanted, huh? Have him drunk enough to get a piece of him?" I snapped, frankly pissed.

My tone was harsh, maybe because I began to feel guilty for some unknown reason. Stephen pulled his hand back and bracing his elbows on his knees, he leaned a bit forward, trying to lock gazes with me but I swept my eyes back to the picture. He said my name then hushed and chiding.

"What, Stephen? What?! Randy belonged to me and she knew that!"

Suddenly she whirled around, the guilt replaced by a glare, almost yelling as she spoke again: "And what have _you_ done, John? You took my husband away from me!"

The rage within me reared its head and I jumped up from the couch, about to close the distance between us and… but Stephens's hand shot up, grabbing my wrist in a vice-grip to hold me back.

"John," he murmured and tugged at my arm, urging me to sit back down. "Will yer calm down finally and please, sit down."

My heart was beating so fucking fast by now that I began to feel dizzy and my breathing was more of a panting. I couldn't really imagine the way I looked to her but obviously it mirrored the rage I felt, because the glare was wiped from her face. She took a step backwards, bumping into the windowsill. The guilt was back and maybe my outburst had scared her. I hoped it. There was another tug at my arm and I followed, sitting back down.

"I didn't take him away from you, Sam. He left you because he wanted to be with me. It was _his_ decision." I laughed bitterly, muttering: "I thought this was a thing of the past, but obviously I was wrong."

"It _is_… a thing of the past. I accepted his decision and I don't love him like that anymore. I don't know why I did it, I…" She halted, leaning against the windowsill while holding her splinted arm close to her body. Her voice was barely audible as she stated: "We didn't have sex. Randy didn't even touch me. I… tried to kiss him and…" Sam stopped again, swallowing hard and after a collecting breath she continued. "I tried to kiss him and he told me to leave him alone but I didn't and… then he pushed me away and I stumbled, fell and broke my arm. It wasn't his fault. And I was so… angry… that I made him the hickey when he was fast asleep. He was away when I came back from the doc and I was too scared to call him or you and… I'm… I'm so sorry, John…"

All I could do was staring at her in utter disbelief, shocked to my very core. I heard her words but I couldn't believe them. My mind tried hard to wrap around the facts, to process the truth and when it sunk in, _really_ sunk in… the message hit me like a blow, knocking the breath right out of me. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think… With a groan I leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands at a sudden sickness. The bloody bitch, she had… she…

Randy hadn't cheated on me…

"Randy," I whispered as I eventually remembered how to breathe. "_Randy_…"

Faintly I felt Stephen wrap an arm around my shoulders, heard him whisper to me that things would be alright and maybe I laughed or maybe I cried, I wasn't sure. I began to tremble, began to breathe harshly as once again my world was being shaken and turned upside down.

"I'm sorry, John. Really, I…"

A groan escaped my throat, becoming a low growl as it passed my lips.

"You… are sorry. You are… You goddamn, bloody…" I panted, looking back up to her. "Get out! _Get THE FUCK out of my house!_"

I saw her flinch so heavy that it looked like she had been hit bodily. It was the last thing I saw from her before I buried my face in my hands. Faintly I heard leaving steps and a door falling shut.

A current of relief, rage, desperation, disbelief, of confusion and sorrow and cautious happiness surged through me, the trembling becoming a heavy shivering as a crushing weight was lifted off my heart and this time I knew I was crying. Hot tears spilled from my eyes as I pulled my knees up to my chest, hiding my face against them.

Even drunk Randy had been faithful.

Into my crying laced uncontrolled chuckling as my mind began to whirl. We needed to talk. We could make a new start and things could be alright again. _We_ could be alright again… I needed to apologize to him but after the situation in his locker today the chances were good that he would accept my apology…

His name was dropping from my lips in a mere whisper. Like a mantra.

I never noticed Stephen's arm around my shoulders vanish but when he gave he a rough shake I snapped out of my thoughts, finding his deeply worried eyes roam my face and somehow I knew he didn't look at me like this because I was crying. My heart stumbled painfully in my chest as I rasped his name, the single word carrying a question.

"Phil called," he said slowly. His brows were furrowing in deepening worry and his face darkened as he added: "John… Randy's gone."


End file.
